CHAPTER 22

　　Jocelyn was fuming.

　　         Anger was vividly painted on her face. Her brows are furrowing. Her lips are pursed into a flat line. Her nose is flaring, and her throat is dry as the Sahara Desert.

　　         She should’ve told a much more solid reason to Darwin for a sure separation of Minerva from the Gray family.

　　         But, none of her previous efforts work that much. In fact, it didn’t even work—not even an inch.

　　         Clenching her face as she looks at herself in the vanity mirror, she glanced at her side—to where a picture of a beautiful red-head girl was situated.

　　         Jocelyn smiled as she knew she must use her secret ‘card’ this time no matter what the cost is. Dialing on her phone, she taps her fingers on the wooden table in anticipation of the person on the other line.

　　         Finally, after two rings, the girl answered.

　　         “What is it this time, Jocelyn?”